How Time Flies
by uniquefreak13
Summary: This is the very short story of OC Celeste Giglio, who thinks all her wishes have been answered when she meets the Doctor. She's about to see just how wrong she is.
1. Meeting a Friend, Losing a Friend

AN: Wow, haven't been on here in a while. I feel guilty. But whatever, new fandoms, new hobbies, new things at school to be tortured by. I recently got into watching Doctor Who (recently like the last week or so). I've been inspired. This is the story of Celeste Giglio, who meets the Doctor with her friend Jackie at age 17 and gets her life... well, you'll see what happens to her life later. In this segment, Celeste and Jackie are 21. (P.S. hope you've all read The Great Gatsby)

Meeting a friend, Losing a friend

"_Is this real?" Celeste asks, scoffing a bit as she explores the TARDIS. "Any of this?"_

"_All of it," Rose replies with a smile, watching the girls as they looked around._

"_And you're inviting us?" Jackie inquires, a grin lighting up her face as she turned to the Doctor, who leaned against the control panel of the spaceship._

"_If you two would like to see the whole universe and then some, yea, you're invited." The Doctor crossed his arms over his chest, looking satisfied with the terms. "Oh, and we make stops for history, too."_

_Jackie turned to Celeste, her eyes lighting up like a little kid on Christmas. "Should we?" she asks her friend. Celeste almost seems hesitant._

"_Are you sure?" the second girl asks, her voice hushed. "Your family, Jackie. What about them? You'd just leave without a trace, they'd be heartbroken. And what about your career? You've got that movie thing lined up for next fall. You can't act in a movie if you're halfway across the galaxy and 4,000 years in the future."_

"_Celeste, with the Doctor, we wouldn't need any of that. No school, no college, no responsibilities. It's like you've always talked about, this is us running away!" Jackie took her friend by the hands, blue eyes shining. "Trust me on this one. It's going to be great."_

* * *

"-And that, my friends, is why you never trust a woman driving a yellow car, no matter what century it is," the Doctor finished up as he stored his sonic screwdriver away in the folds of his jacket. Sweat trickled down the side of his face as he sent a wide grin to the rest of his entourage, Rose, Celeste, and Jackie, who rewarded him with weary smiles of their own. Foiling a Gatsby-like recreation would've been an easy enough feat in the 21st century, but defeating it 1000 years in the future, in the Neo-Roaring 20s, when the America of the 1920s was attempting to revive itself, proved to be a more difficult matter.

It was as if the universe had decided to bring a novel to life, and had happened to choose F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby as a test run. The characters were mimicked to a tee, the plot was laid out exactly the same, and even the events began to unfold as if some omniscient creature above were reading the book to life. Had the TARDIS not landed in 2121 on accident, the book would've finished itself exactly as it had been written. Intercepting the plot, the Doctor managed to save the lives of 3 people, effectively cutting them out of the universe's sick game. Even now Deidra Buchanan (the perverse reincarnation of Daisy) was being led away by the police on the charges of attempted vehicular slaughter of one Mahogany (Myrtle) Wilson. Off to the side, a visibly wilted Terry Buchanan watched the events as they occurred, saying nothing as his wife appealed to him for help, and even less as his mistress pleaded with him to take her back.

Even farther off, however, stood Jack Gatsby, by the side of his swimming pool, watching the water below him as the warm summer night rippled across its edges. He hadn't spoken a word for what seemed like hours, and Celeste was beginning to wonder if he was in deep shock.

"Should someone go talk to him?" she starts, barely finishing the sentence as she realized Jackie was already on her way over to the man, a blanket clutched tight to her chest. The remaining 3 time travelers watched as she approached him, tenderly laying the blanket across his shoulders. Celeste smiled a bit.

"In junior year," she starts, feeling taken aback as she stops herself before starting over. "Wow that was 4 years ago… In junior year we read The Great Gatsby, and Jackie absolutely fell in love with it, in love with him." Celeste nodded her head towards the man, whose face now broke into a small tentative smile for the kind, blonde girl. "She was always telling me how she wanted a Gatsby of her own."

"Looks like she's got one now," Rose chuckled as she watched Gatsby start to open up more to Jackie. The two laughed at some inaudible joke and Celeste smiled to herself.

"Yea, I guess. But it's sad that she's got to leave him."

"Leave him?" questions the Doctor, turning to Celeste with furrowed brows. "Now why would she have to do that?"

"Because this isn't her timeline, she's not supposed to be here. It's not right," Celeste answered immediately, spouting out the excuses one after another like machine gun fire, quick and defensive like a wounded little kid and not a 21 year old. "It isn't right, I know it isn't." She looks the Doctor straight in the eye, her hazel ones brimming with tentative confidence. "Right?" she asked, testing the waters.

The Doctor didn't answer her, choosing instead to break their gaze, looking back towards the TARDIS. "We'd better get going soon, wouldn't want to wait around here too long."

"Too many questions," Rose groans with a roll of her eyes as she starts to make her way back to the TARDIS. She looks over her shoulder when she realizes Celeste isn't following. "You coming, then?"

"Yea," Celeste answers hurriedly, seeming to shake herself out of a daze. "I've just got to get Jackie, it'll only take a sec, we'll meet you guys up there." Rose nodded, following the Doctor up to the TARDIS, slipping inside behind him.

Celeste strolled over to the pair, smiling a bit as she watched Jackie and Gatsby share a laugh at some unheard joke. When she was close enough, Gatsby finally seemed to notice her, clearing his throat as he vainly tried to wipe the smile from his face. "Good evening, miss."

Celeste gave a polite smile, nodding her head to him before looking at Jackie. "Can I talk to you?" Jackie nods at her friend, giving Gatsby a wide smile before following Celeste a few feet away.

"It's time to go," Celeste says bluntly, looking expectantly at Jackie. "The Doctor and Rose are already in the TARDIS and you know we can stay too long in one place. Time warp gets all wonky." Celeste began to start walking backwards slowly, hoping Jackie would immediately follow.

"What do you mean?" the blonde asked, furrowing her eyebrows as if she didn't understand. "We've only just gotten here! We can't leave just like that! There's still so much to do, so much to see!"

"We can see it on another vacation; it's time to go, Jackie." Celeste's voice was harsh, unrelenting. Something was making her nervous, on edge. Jackie wondered what it was.

"Celeste," she starts, her voice breaking a bit. Jackie clears her throat and tries again. "Celeste, I-I can't leave…"

"Course you can," Celeste says with a barking laugh. "We leave places all the time."

"Celeste, this is different," Jackie argues, brows knitting together earnestly and in frustration. "I can't just leave this place. There's so much here for me."

"No!" Celeste shouts, gaining Gatsby's attention as he hears her. "No there isn't! There's everything you need with me and the Doctor and Rose in the TARDIS. We have the whole universe at our fingertips! You don't need to tie yourself to one place!"

"Something wrong?" Gatsby asks softly as he seemingly wanders into the conversation. Celeste barely notices it, but as he sidles up next to Jackie, their fingers intertwine neatly. This seems to give Jackie confidence as she takes a deep breath.

"Yes, I do." Her voice is rock solid and harsh and Celeste can feel the tears prickling in her eyes. "This isn't a game anymore, Celeste. This isn't just another place for us to make a mess then leave. This place is my home, I realized that now. I think I knew it as soon as we got here. It's got everything I could ever want, everything I need." She squeezes Gatsby's hand, briefly glancing up at him, tenderness in her eyes, before looking back at Celeste. "I'm sorry, I can't go."

"You promised!" Celeste shouts, not even attempting to hold the tears back now. "You promised when this all began, you said it was going to be like we were running away, like we were getting away from our lives!" Tears streamed down her face but Celeste refused to wipe them away. "4 years ago! Do you remember what you said?" A sob chokes Celeste up and she can barely speak. "You told me to trust you, you said it was gonna be great, Jackie. It was you and me against the world, finally doing what we'd always wanted to do! Don't ruin it!"

The blonde woman said nothing as she slid her hand out of Gatsby's, closing the short distance between herself and the crying girl, easily wrapping her arms around Celeste's neck, burying her face in her shoulder. "I know exactly what I said, Celeste," Jackie starts, her voice hushed, tears stinging in her eyes. She blinked them away. "And I know it feels like I'm betraying you by doing this. I can't presume to know how you feel, but I can try to imagine it. But try to imagine this, Celeste. Try to imagine finding the one place you actually belonged, feeling for once like you were actually a part of something, something bigger, something greater. Imagine feeling like you actually belonged someone."

"I don't have to imagine," Celeste sobs, holding tighter onto her friend. "I've already found it. With you and the Doctor and Rose in the TARDIS. It's where I belong. It's where **we **belong."

"No." Jackie pushes her friend away, holding her at shoulder's length. "Celeste, I love the TARDIS, you know I do. But it's not my home. This is." She gestured to the world around her, much cleaner and progressive than the 21st century they'd left behind. "I found out where I belong."

"You'll be lost in time!" Celeste argued, shouting, sputtering, crying as she did so. Her words were little more than gibberish, but Jackie understood.

"Yes," the woman nodded sadly, but gave a supporting smile. "But is it really lost when you've found someone to be with?" Letting go of her hold on Celeste, Jackie stepped back, slipping her hand once more into Gatsby's, squeezing it tightly. For a while the only sound between the 3 was Celeste's ragged breathing as she looked between her best friend and the man she held hands with.

"Jackie, I can't live without you," Celeste tried, vainly hoping the words would work. Jackie only gave a gently sardonic smile.

"That's a lie and you know it, Celeste. You've got the Doctor; you've got undiscovered worlds and undiscovered potential. You've got the support in your life you've always needed, the stimulation I could never give you. It's where you belong, Celeste. Just like this is where I belong. Right here."

Celeste choked out another sob before forcing herself to smile through it, her eyes red and raw as she gave a shaky laugh. "I suppose there's no deterring you," she said slowly, her voice wavering as she wiped at the tears with the back of her sleeve. "You're… you're sure this is what you want?"

Gazing up at Gatsby, Jackie smiled broadly, mostly to herself, as Gatsby smiled back. "This is what I've always wanted," she says, not making eye contact with Celeste.

"Well then, this is goodbye." The jagged sentence jars Jackie from her moment with Gatsby, and letting go of his hand, she surges forward to hug her friend.

"This is goodbye," Jackie murmurs in her ear. "But not really. We'll meet again, Celeste, I know we will."

"No, we won't." Celeste's voice was almost cold, but years of knowing her had trained Jackie to the hidden emotion that the girl had tucked away. Celeste was hurting, Celeste was in pain, but she was forcing it down, hiding it, for Jackie. "But that's okay. Whatever gets you through the night."

The two friends break apart again, both of them now with silent tears making dirty little trails down their cheeks. They share a final smile, both of them internally reminiscing on all their past adventures, all the places they'd been, things they'd seen. Celeste can't help but think of the first time they'd met, really met, and how Jackie had nearly forced her friendship on her. And now here she was, severing it.

"I'm gonna miss you," Celeste says softly, sniffling a bit.

"Don't worry, we're gonna be fine." Jackie smiles sadly, wiping at her eyes, giving Celeste a clever smile. She grabs Gatsby's hand and starts to walk away, turning around to tell Celeste one final thing before her departure. And it was those words that resonated with Celeste as she made her way back to the TARDIS, ignoring Rose and the Doctor as she stepped inside the blue box.

"_Trust me on this one."_


	2. Another Kind of Angel

AN: This one is formatted a bit differently but tells the same story of Celeste Giglio, just a bit misconstrued. Let's just say that parallel universes are a bitch. It clearly states how old Celeste is in this.

Another Kind of Angel

PART ONE

The year is 2005 and even 11 year old Celeste Giglio knows it. The girl walks through the ash ridden streets of her town, taking in the burning buildings and the wreckage of war with sad eyes. The gas mask over her face blocked out the worst of the air, but still it tasted bitter and poisonous. With her town in flames and her life uprooted, the girl didn't know what to do, scared and alone, sure to die in a harsh, painful way any time soon. It wasn't the life for a 5th grader. It wasn't the life for anyone.

But in WWIII America, it was the life for everyone.

The first bombs had gone off weeks ago, maybe even months. Celeste wasn't very good at keeping track of time. They hit the biggest cities first, Chicago, New York, Washington DC, Los Angeles. Millions died overnight. The country was wrought with terror, but the enemy remained faceless. America didn't have anyone to fight a war against. And in a matter of weeks the country fell to shambles.

Celeste couldn't remember when Columbia had been hit. Time was impossible to measure in a broken world. Celeste began to wonder if there was time at all, or if the clocks had all stopped. And if they had stopped, did that mean she was stuck here forever? The thoughts chilled the small girl to the core, so she brushed them away, scavenging aimlessly as she had been for hours, days, even. The harder she looked, the less she found.

The last bomb had hit Columbia recently, that she knew. Recently meaning within the past few days. Thousands were dead, she knew. Thousands more injured. The dead and the dying lined the streets, were crowded inside buildings. The air was filled with the smell of fire and ash and burning flesh. Their screams were the only things Celeste could hear for days, echoing in her mind long after they were over. She could hear them long after they had died, screaming for help, screaming for mercy.

Celeste wanted mercy. Celeste wanted liberation. Celeste wanted a better world, a better place. Celeste wanted freedom from the Hell she'd been living, a Hell that showed no signs of slowing.

A strange noise interrupts her thoughts, faint yet odd enough to pick up, to listen for. The noise was almost like a roaring, or a strange pulsing. It was no sound the 11 year old had ever heard. It was no sound a bomb made, or a tank made, or a human scream made. It simply was, and Celeste didn't know what to make of it. Electing to ignore it, the girl tightens her gas mask, vainly hoping to taste clean air for once in what seemed like an eternity.

And unwittingly, the girl walks into her death.

The mine was covered in debris, and it was small and metal and looked about as junky as the rest of the town. There was nothing distinguishing about it, there was nothing special to alert the 5th grader. The mine simply was, and for Celeste, it was a trap.

She was small, but a single movement of her foot set it off. All at once there's an explosion bigger than the girl had ever seen, fires of all shapes, sizes, and colours, exploding at her feet, blasting her into the air. But what really gets her is the brilliantly white light that seethes beneath her eyelids, burning her retinas, frying her corneas in the span of a single second. It's so quick and so powerful Celeste barely has time to scream. Suspension occurs only for a moment before the 11 year old is smashed back to the ground, most of her gas mask blown off, some of it melted to her face. Her body was limp; her limbs were now nearly useless. The only sensation Celeste could recognize was a dull burning, one that emanated throughout her entire body. But that wasn't the worst part, the pain was tolerable, it was the fear that gripped the girl tighter than a vice grip.

It coursed through her veins like ice, chilling her to the very core despite how her clothes and flesh burned off her by the second. Fear was the only thing tethering her to this world, keeping her thoughts reminded that as long as she feared, she was human, and as long as she was human, she could suffer. And she was suffering, silent and alone, in pain with no one to scream out to, no voice to be heard over the silence of death and destruction. Celeste looked into blackness and tried to open her eyes, hoping to at least catch one more glance of the world as she knew it before dying.

No.

The blast. The light.

She'd heard of bombs like these, lights so bright they fry your eyes out of your skull. They were myths, legends, tales from the earlier months to keep people from going outside. They were fiction, boogeymen of the modern age.

They were real.

And they lived up to their stories.

The little girl choked out a sob from her coarse throat. She was blind. She was hurt. She was dying.

She was _alone._

And down her face streamed tears of blood, tears shed for the only living soul left in the city, or even in the world, for all the girl knew. What did it matter? If she truly was the last to die, then perhaps this Hell would finally recede in on itself. Perhaps this would all be over. Sobs wracked the girl's frame but she's paralyzed by pain and fear. It hurts too much to cry. It hurts too much to move. It hurts too much to live.

And she was going to die alone.

The girl doesn't hear the footsteps until they were a foot or so away from her, and her sobs hitch in her chest with a horrible guttural sound, like she was choking on the remainder of her life. How could this be? How was there someone else? Was this a trick of a desperate little girl's mind, pleading in her final moments not to be alone in death, begging for the company of someone, anyone, in her final moments? The footsteps stop, and someone crouches down to the girl, sitting next to her. Celeste can't move, but if she could, she wouldn't resist as the stranger gently scoops her into their arms, cradling the girl against their chest, like a mother to a child. Celeste's sob ease to silence as the person begins to rock her back and forth, burying their face in her burnt and blood matted hair.

"I'm so sorry," they tell her quietly, the voice the soft and lyrical lilt of a woman mourning. "This shouldn't have happened to you… This shouldn't have happened at all…"

Celeste doesn't know what to say, her words abandon her as this simple savior comes to her aid. The 5th grader always had a hard time believing in God, but could this be a prayer answered? A messenger sent down with an answer for the dying child? Celeste parted her lips to speak.

"Are you an angel?" the 11 year old rasped. It was a coarse, gritty sound, like sandpaper rubbing against vocal chords. She can feel the woman nod.

"If you want me to be," she says simply. "I'm whatever you need me to be. I'm here for you, Celeste. I'll always be here for you. You're not alone, just know that. You're not alone."

As if mimicking tears, blood from the girl's ruined eyes streams down her cheeks, creating trails of dark red against the girl's already dirty face. The corners of her mouth tug into the confused remnant of a smile, or at least what Celeste remembered a smile to be. It had been so long since there had been something to smile about. So long…

"You'll stay here with me?" the child asks hopefully, not believing the words. "Till the end?"

"You won't be alone," the woman repeats. Celeste isn't sure she's ever heard a more beautiful sound than the woman's voice.

"Thank you," the words are broken up by the sound of tears in the child's cracked and ruined voice, but the sincerity is still there. "T-thank you."

Instead of answering, the woman holds the girl closer, petting her hair softly, murmuring soothing nonsense into her ears. She holds Celeste close as if she were her own child, comforting her for what felt like hours though only half a dozen minutes had gone by. All too soon the girl began to grow cold, but if Celeste noticed it, she didn't show it. She smiled her gruesome smile, blood-tears running freely down her face as the fear inside melted away, as happiness helped ease the pain. All at once her injuries were tolerable, her mind was rested, her soul was not as weary as it had been only hours before.

Celeste only ever had one wish in the world, one she had begun to think could not be granted.

But as she lay in the arms of a benevolent stranger, a smile etched onto her face, Celeste got her wish.

She did not die alone.

PART TWO

"Are you sure about this?" the Doctor asks, looking 21 year old Celeste Giglio straight in the eyes. His burn into hers but she breaks the connection, looking down at the controls of the TARDIS so she wouldn't have to look at him.

"Yes." Her voice betrayed her uncertainty.

"You don't have to, you know," he said cautiously, standing up straight, hoping to catch her eye once more. "We can steer the TARDIS away, we don't ever have to come back here."

"I can't just leave her!" the woman shouts, anger flaring up. Instead of getting angry the Doctor only looks at her sadly, eyes all too knowing, as he nods.

"Alright then." His voice is quiet, restrained. He gestures to the doors of the TARDIS. "Go on out, then."

And she does. Celeste lets the doors to the blue box swing shut firmly behind her as she takes the world in. The sky was black with soot, raining down onto the town like perverted black snow, covering everything in sight. Where buildings once stood there was only piles of rubble, cracked cement, splintered wood, shattered glass and broken metal. All of it gave way to the destruction of a city, the destruction of a society. The world was deathly quiet under the weight of all it had lost, and Celeste could feel the silence pressing into her ears, seeping into her soul. Covering her mouth up with her sleeve, Celeste forged her way through the rubble, searching for her target, the one living thing in this wreck of a city.

All too soon something betrayed the silence, a sharp echoing CRACK that made the woman flinch at the very sound of it. Seconds later the explosion could be seen, blindingly bright and brilliant, tossing a single, small figure into the air before it was hurtled back down to the ground, lifeless and still.

A strangled sob claws its way out of Celeste's throat as she sprints to the figure, her footsteps uncertain and clumsy in the debris lining the streets. As she gets closer, her steps falter, become slower and slower until she's standing above a small girl, no older than 12.

It wasn't only the burns and cuts the girl had received from the blast that made her horrific to look at, it was her entire state of being. The girl was underweight, all skin and bones, so much so that her ribs were visible through her tattered shirt, practically countable under the girl's gaunt skin. Her hair was matted with mud and blood and trash as if she didn't bother to take care of it anymore. But the most gruesome thing about her wasn't her clothes or her skin or her overall obvious lack of health.

It was her eyes.

Or where her eyes were supposed to be.

In the sockets smoldered the remains of what used to be the girl's eyes, burnt to a blood crisp as it steamed and smoked out of her face. Flinching away as she knelt down, Celeste realized that the girl wasn't quite as still as she'd initially assumed. She was crying, or attempting to, her whole body shaking with the effort, barely making a sound as she did so. Without thinking, Celeste scoops the girl into her arms, trying desperately to ignore how thin she is, how easy it is to cradle her like a small child.

"I'm so sorry…" Celeste starts, rocking the girl like a little baby, feeling more and more like a mother with her child. "This shouldn't have happened to you. This shouldn't have happened at all…" It's more difficult than Celeste realized to keep the pain and fear from her voice. Just seeing the girl like that, in a nearly dead state, it was a lot to bear.

The girl whispers something back and it takes Celeste a few moments too long to decipher the girl's question. "Are you an angel?" A bitter smile finds it ways onto the woman's face.

"If you want me to be," she answers, trying not to sound sardonic. "I'm whatever you need me to be. I'm here for you, Celeste. I'll always be here for you. You're not alone, just know that. You're not alone." Celeste can't help as she chokes up, fighting to keep her voice even for the girl dying in her arms. The woman held Celeste closer, feeling more and more protective of her as the precious seconds flew by.

"You'll stay here with me? Till the end?" The irony of it hits Celeste full force. She's never felt her heart ache like this; she's never felt a pain so strong it resonates in her bones, in her soul.

Not trusting her voice to say anything else, Celeste's reply is hushed, scarcely more than a whisper. "You won't be alone." She means it.

"Thank you." The child's gratefulness is enough to override the pain. "T-thank you."

_Don't thank me, _Celeste thinks bitterly, letting a few tears finally fall. _I'm not strong like you are, I'm doing this because I'm selfish and I'm scared and I didn't want this to happen, not ever… Not ever..._

Instead of telling her this, Celeste merely holds the girl closer, wrapping her arms around her securely. There wasn't a single force in the entire world that could make her let go. Rocking back and forth once more, Celeste finds herself whispering to the dying child, short stories of things she's seen, places she's gone, people she's met. As Celeste begins to cry she notices the blood that begins to run from the girl's eyes as well, tears of a sort, she realized. So Celeste continues, her voice hushed and comforting, softer than she's ever heard it before, as she talks to this child, soothing her in her final moments.

And when the girl starts to grow cold, Celeste only holds her tighter, talks to her faster, telling her all the things she wished the girl could know, all of the places she'd never get to see, all the sights she'd miss. Celeste's tears catch up with her as she names off the people she wished the girl could meet, sobs catching in her throat when she realizes the girl is dead.

"You'd have loved him," Celeste announces, cradling the girl, looking down at her sadly. For once her face is etched with peace instead of pain. "He's a fantastic man, the greatest man I'd ever met." A sob chokes her silent for a moment, so Celeste merely lays the deceased girl back onto the ground, lowering her there softly, tenderly. "The Doctor would've saved you better than I did."

Looking down at the girl Celeste stands up, wiping her tears away. "You'd have loved him," she repeats sadly. The 11 year old face of Celeste Giglio stares back up at her with eyes that cannot see. "See, I promised. I kept my promise, didn't I?" Celeste smudges tears against her face with the back of her hand. "You weren't alone. I knew from the moment we made that wish I would find a way to fulfill it." Shrugging with a drunken little laugh on her face, Celeste gives a gleeful smile to her younger form down below.

"You didn't die alone!" the 21 year old announces loudly, shouting it for all to hear. Ash gets caught up in her throat and she can't speak for a few moments. Looking tearfully back at the 11 year old, Celeste pays her final respects, making her way back to the TARDIS.

And around her, the walls of another parallel universe crumbled around her. The body of 11 year old Celeste Giglio dissolved into dust, absorbed into the universe as the real Celeste Giglio fought her way back to the Doctor.

As she stepped inside, shaking the ash and the soot from her hair, Celeste finally allowed herself to lock eyes with the Time Lord, her gaze unwavering.

"Promise me," she said with a broken voice, her invisible wounds becoming apparent as she spoke. "Promise me I won't die alone. You're the only person I trust, Doctor. So you have to promise me. Please." Her eyes drove into his with the intensity of the TARDIS' heart, and the Doctor knew there was only one answer she'd accept.

"I promise," he told her softly, sincerely. And she believed it. Letting the exhaustion of the experience engulf her, Celeste teetered clumsily over to the Doctor, allowing him to wrap her in a comforting hug.

For now, at least she was not alone.

_No, _Celeste corrected herself.

_For good._


	3. Rule Number One: The Doctor Lies

AN: I felt like this would be more powerful if it was in first person, so that's why it's a different perspective from the first two segments. It's still Celeste, it's still her story. And this is the final chapter of her short story. 7 years have gone by since she's met the Doctor. Keep in mind this is an AU of sorts, and I haven't yet seen the episode where Rose and the Doctor part ways. No spoilers please, and just make do with what I have here. I might come back and fix it when I've seen it but, eh, for now this is what I have to offer. So Jackie has been gone for 3 years, and let's say Rose disappeared somewhere around there as well. It's been Celeste and the Doctor for 3 years, Celeste is 24 years old.

Rule Number One: The Doctor Lies

They say in your final moments you're finally allowed to review your life as a whole, see your successes, your failures, what could've been and what you wish you'd never done. You see the most important things to you, and if you're lucky you'll think of the people that meant the most to you.

And I couldn't help but picture him in those final moments, one of the only faces that came to mind. And I smiled as I saw him, knowing how much he'd done for me, and how much I'd miss him. And at that moment it didn't matter that he was the reason I was here in the first place, it didn't matter that my death was imminent, because I'd met him, and he'd made my life worth living.

What they say is true.

You never forget your first Doctor.

* * *

We were never supposed to be there, but when you travel with the Doctor you get to go lots of places you're not supposed to be. That was part of the fun of it, part of the charm. It was always dangerous travelling with the Doctor, but that was something all his companions had come to accept.

All of them.

Especially Rose.

I knew how much Rose had meant to the Doctor, he'd been worse than heartbroken when she'd gotten trapped, he was _destroyed. _Centuries had gone by and he'd seen so much death and so much pain that I was sure he'd been hardened to things like this. I expected him to be the strong one, because I knew I needed support too.

That wasn't the case.

He was torn apart. Wouldn't talk for weeks, I had to learn how to fly the TARDIS (mostly out of trial and error, mind you) because the Doctor would hardly do anything besides sit on the flight deck, that horrible look on his face, and just think.

Thinking is one of the most dangerous things a man can do. Especially a man like the Doctor.

After a while though, he got better. He began to walk, talk, and act like the Doctor I knew. It was mostly a show, I knew. It wasn't really him; it was just the Doctor putting on a brave face, getting on with the world because he knew he had to, because he knew Rose wasn't going to come back.

So we travelled, him and me. It was nice for a while. I learned more about him, about the world, than ever dreamed I could know. He showed me the deepest recesses of space and every year on my birthday he'd take me to watch a star come to life. It was great, just me and the Doctor.

And of course it fell apart in a single day.

Like I said, we weren't supposed to be there. We weren't supposed to fall through time. The TARDIS wasn't supposed to find a weak spot in the continuum. We probably weren't even supposed to survive the landing.

But we did.

And I wished on all the stars I'd seen born that we hadn't.

Because he found her there.

He found Rose.

Really Rose.

And as they cried and held each other and said they'd never let the other out of their sight, I realized I wasn't needed anymore. After Rose had gone I was the cheap and convenient replacement. But I'd seen how the Doctor could get. He would tear whole universes apart if it meant he could save his girl. And that girl wasn't me. That girl was Rose Tyler.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit jealous. Hell, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous at all. For so long I'd been there for him, so many years, all those lonely moments, all those horrible things he'd said and done out of grief, I'd been there. I'd helped him.

And in a single moment all was forgotten.

Of course I was glad to see her as well. Rose was always good to me. But I'd grown used to her absence. I'd grown used to not having to share the Doctor. Things were going to change after this. I knew it.

We all headed back to the TARDIS, finding no reason to stay on this world longer than necessary. The three of us walked into the TARDIS, the Doctor, Rose and I-

I couldn't get inside.

Perplexed, I walked back up to the open door, trying to force my way through. It was like some invisible wall was stopping me, keeping me here. Confused, Rose turns around, taking a step outside the TARDIS to beckon me in.

"You coming?" she asks, the cheer restored in her voice, her cheeks red with a joy, a smile on her face. I watch as she easily slips into the TARDIS and again, I try to follow.

I couldn't get inside.

Rose sees it now, too, furrowing her eyebrows, knitting them together as she calls out for the Doctor. The grin on his face is incomparable. "Well, c'mon then!" he announces. I frown, trying to shove my shoulder against the barrier, hoping to crack whatever invisible wall held me back. I had no such luck.

"I'm, I'm stuck…" I say, my eyes growing dim with the realization. Their smiles begin to fade as they see it too. "Doctor, why am I stuck?"

Stepping out, the Doctor tests the wall, easily fitting through it both ways. He steps back inside and I try once more. Failure. Again and again I'm stuck outside. My heart begins to race. I was stuck outside the TARDIS. I couldn't get in. What was going on?

"No…" the Doctor mutters, his eyes dimming fully. "This dimension, this universe… It's got a natural equilibrium. The number of people who arrive must equal the number of people to leave. 2 people arrive, 2 people leave. No less…" He stares at me sadly. "No more."

"So what then, she's stuck?" Rose asks, hysteria rising in her voice. "No, she can't be! There's gotta be something we can try, right, Doctor? Some way to get her back?" Desperately, Rose looks at me, like there are so many things she wants to tell me but doesn't have the time. "We can come back with someone or something else, and trick it, right Doctor? We can do that and come back for her!"

He only shakes his head. "It was an accident we got here in the first place. We're not supposed to be here at all." Thunder crashes in the distance, the sky lighting up with unnatural light. "Even now the time stream is collapsing in on itself. We have to leave."

"So now I guess we decide who 'we' is," I say softly, looking back up to Rose and the Doctor. They were safe, already inside the TARDIS, neither of them making a move to exit. I can see the thoughts crossing Rose's face and it only takes her a few moments to announce.

"I'm staying," she says firmly. "I've been here before, I can stay here. It's my responsibility." My heart wells up as she starts to cross the threshold out of the TARDIS. I didn't think she would do that for me, and it felt wrong that I wanted her to.

A single hand stopped her. It was the Doctor's, his hand wrapping tightly around her wrist, the saddest look I've ever seen on his face as he begged her with his eyes. He'd seen so much death, experienced so much loss, it hurt to look at.

"I've lost you more than once before, Rose," he said quietly, guilt weighing down his words. "I can't lose you again." He couldn't even make eye contact with me.

"But what about Celeste?!" the blonde woman shouts, gesturing to me. "We can't leave her here! I can't leave her here!" Making a move to yank her wrist away, the Doctor only pulls her farther away from the door.

"I'm sorry, Rose!" I could hear his heart breaking with the words. "I can't let you do this!"

"Stop it!" she shouted, turning to him then back at me where I stood, unmoving in the doorway of the TARDIS. "Celeste!" she screamed out, reaching a hand for me. He only continued to drag her backwards until he was within reach of the TARDIS' control panel.

"The time stream will collapse any minute now, if I stay we'll all die!" the words are out of his mouth before he can think of them and a look of horrible shock seems to cross over his face as he realizes what he'd just said. Looking up at me, eyes blank, face written over with grief, he speaks softly. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry about this." He puts a hand on a lever as a deafening crash of thunder rings out in the dimension.

"You promised!" I scream to him. It takes me more than a few moments to realize I'm crying. "YOU PROMISED!"

I've never seen a live man look deader in my entire life.

With a single flick of his wrist, the Doctor hits the lever.

The doors to the TARDIS close.

The final image engrained in my head is the sight of Rose screaming out, reaching for me as the Doctor holds her back.

The TARDIS disappears and I realize with a sob that this will be the last time I ever see it.

I should've been screaming, I should've been crying and completely _terrified_ that I was literally facing my death. Any minute now this dimension would collapse. I would be lost in time, gone without a trace.

And yet the only thing that I could think of was the promise he'd made me, the promise I'd forced him to make. I looked up at the sky, noticing how it had begun to shatter and realized that I was glad all in all that I'd met the Doctor. He'd made my life worth living; he'd given me purpose when there was none. He was my tether and my life for 7 years, and those were the best 7 years of my life.

But for all his greatness, the Doctor had one terrible vice.

He couldn't keep a promise.

* * *

_As she stepped inside, shaking the ash and the soot from her hair, Celeste finally allowed herself to lock eyes with the Time Lord, her gaze unwavering._

"_Promise me," she said with a broken voice, her invisible wounds becoming apparent as she spoke. "Promise me I won't die alone. You're the only person I trust, Doctor. So you have to promise me. Please." Her eyes drove into his with the intensity of the TARDIS' heart, and the Doctor knew there was only one answer she'd accept._

"_I promise," he told her softly, sincerely. And she believed it. Letting the exhaustion of the experience engulf her, Celeste teetered clumsily over to the Doctor, allowing him to wrap her in a comforting hug._

_For now, at least she was not alone._

_**No**__, Celeste corrected herself._

_**For good.**_


End file.
